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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23893279">Time Enough</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epiphanaea/pseuds/epiphanaea'>epiphanaea (Epiphanaea)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Nynaeve Fixes Everything, Post-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:22:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>923</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23893279</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epiphanaea/pseuds/epiphanaea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Warder bond requires revision and so do certain fantasy tropes, Nynaeve is Nynaeve, and your author is still bitter about Arwen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nynaeve al'Meara/Lan Mandragoran</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Time Enough</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lan slept, and Nynaeve lay beside him and studied the bond.</p><p>It was . . uneven. She thought that was the key.</p><p>That, and the use of Spirit alone; the Aes Sedai limited themselves so much, clinging to the idea that <em>this </em><span>power was used for </span><em>that, </em><span>and this for that, all based on almost superstitious assumptions. Never a thought to what might be accomplished with a different power. Damer Flinn had been frankly shocked to learn that before Nynaeve, no one had used Fire or Earth for Healing in centuries – didn't bodies need, and create, heat? Didn't they need nourishment, which came from food, which ultimately came from the earth? People were not columns of water and breath with a soul holding it together, they were solid, they had energy, so, why?<br/>
Nynaeve had no answers for him; she didn't understand it either.</span></p><p>
  <span>Of course, she also didn't entirely understand how her healing worked, but she was learning. Having the insight of another entirely self-taught healer, even if he was a man, helped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bond, though – what if she added Fire? Woven in just . . . there . . . .</span>
</p><p>“<span>I can feel that,” Lan said.</span></p><p>
  <span>Nynaeve startled, biting back a yelp and releasing the source. How had she missed him waking? And – had she actually begun the weave she was considering? She hadn't meant to do that! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled to face her, stretching luxuriantly as he did so. Nynaeve flushed; Light, the man had no right to look like that. Lan was smiling as he settled onto his side; there was an answering heat from his end of the bond, but a calm heat, like a banked fire. </span>
</p><p>“<span>What are you contemplating so seriously?” he asked. He didn't ask why she had been – unintentionally! - poking around in his mind and his soul with experimental weaves; at times his trust was daunting. </span></p><p>“<span>Why don't Warders live as long as their Aes Sedai?” she asked, by way of answer. </span></p><p>
  <span>A small frown creased his brow, and in the bond he went somber. “I do not know; it is how things are.” He paused. “And you have never accepted that as an answer for anything. You believe that can change?”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Maybe,” Nynaeve said. “No – I believe it can, I'm just not sure how, yet. I have ideas. I want to talk to Damer, and Sumeko, but – yes. I think I may know how to fix it.”</span></p><p>“<span>Fix it,” Lan repeated carefully. “Is it broken?” </span></p><p>
  <span>Her stomach lurched. “Isn't it? It isn't fair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He studied her solemnly for long moments, and his emotions were . . . complicated. Not a tangle like her own; they rarely were. He'd told her once that she felt like a thicket of roses (and then had assured her, very thoroughly, that he didn't mind the thorns). He felt like a wide river, serene and steady on the surface, most days, but deep and full of treacherous currents. Right now those currents were tumbling over rocks, some of the turbulence coming to the surface. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a trickle of hope and joy, in there, though, and she clung to that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what he said was, “No man should be king for hundreds of years.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>So don't be,” Nynaeve said hurriedly. “Cede the throne to – to your heir, when you think he's ready.” A still hypothetical heir, though she had hopes of her own. It was too soon to be certain. </span></p><p>
  <span>He was quiet for another unbearably long span of time, but the river was slowing, settling back into a course slightly altered. “We could go to your Two Rivers,” he finally said, “For a time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nynaeve thought she could have burst from relief and joy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He caressed her cheek with one finger, an achingly tender smile settling on his lips. “I will not leave you before I must,” Lan said. </span>
</p><p>“<span>I know that,” she said, and when his finger moved to the corner of her eye, drew back to scrub hastily at her own face. “Of course I know that.” </span></p><p>“<span>Of course,” he agreed, far too knowingly. He settled back into the pillows, arms crossed behind his head; he knew what seeing him stretched out and at his ease like that did to her, burn the man. “You may continue your studies.” </span></p><p>“<span>I command in private now,” she snipped; Light, she wanted to </span><em>bite </em><span>him for feeling so settled and content again, just like that, when she'd been dreading broaching this topic for </span><em>weeks</em><span>.. </span></p><p>
  <span>Bite, and possibly – no, she would not be distracted!</span>
</p><p>“<span>Hrmm,” he said, his tone quite serious, his emotions and his posture all radiating amusement – and something simpler and purer, relief and joy to match her own. “In this? No, I believe this is an Aes Sedai matter, not a matter of state. So I am your obedient Warder -”</span></p><p>
  <span>She scoffed, loudly. Well, he was, but only by the most literal of definitions. </span>
</p><p>“ <span>- and you the holder of my bond, my will subservient to yours. Were we in public.”</span></p><p>“<span>You have never been subservient to anything in your life, al'Lan Mandragoran.”</span></p><p>“<span>Now you address me as king, and so - yes, my queen.”</span></p><p>“<span>Oh, you – fine! Hold still!” It didn't really matter if he held still, which was a good thing since he responded in a blur of motion that ended with him crouched over her, his arms to either side of her shoulders and knees to either side of her hips.</span></p><p>“<span>This is not going to result in me continuing my studies,” Nynaeve protested, trying hard to glare up at him.</span></p><p>“<span>There is time,” was his answer.</span></p><p> </p><p> </p>
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